


Flicker

by Lightpoint



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Dark!Rey, Dubious Consent, F/M, Femdom, Hux the Chew Toy, Phasma misses Kylo because he wrecks things not people, Phasma the evil space mom, Rey is scary when bored, Touch-Starved, i can't write darkfic without breaking Hux, reference to Hux/Rey, slight Phasma/Hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 10:04:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6324787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightpoint/pseuds/Lightpoint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snoke's Finest Apprentice, the Lady Rey, is bored. FN-2187 catches her eye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flicker

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for the following prompt at the 'The Force Awakens Kink Meme', link [here](https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/3467.html?thread=7849355#cmt7849355):  
>    
>  _'Rey has been Snoke's apprentice since she was a little girl, and is as messed up as you would expect. She takes a special interest in FN-2187 after reading his mind for an interrogation._
> 
>  
> 
> _She discovered such compassion and warmth there, and she's attracted to it. She just can't decide if she wants to possess his compassion and love or destroy it. Cue one dark, twisted seduction and one Finn who is in way over his head.'_

_Force, I’m bored._

Rey sat next to Captain Phasma, determinedly rigid, stubbornly resisting the urge to jump up and pace. One of Snoke’s dolls stood at attention across from them.  
It was just as shiny and blank on the inside as it’s polished, white shell. 

_Well, there is the noise…_ Sometimes, when Rey was in a more…whimsical mood, she thought of them as husks, standing suits of armor infused with that warped voice like the Sith golems of legend, the meat inside burned away. She could see Snoke pouring molten metal in through those gaps in the helmets. _Maybe through the eyes._

It answered their questions in the same dull monotone as the other three hundred twenty-two they’d seen today, the two-thousand one-hundred eighty-sixth this week. 

Rey had been counting, naturally. Because what the hell else was there for her to do?

Officially, she was there to review the results of the First Order’s conditioning program, to compare the results and optimize the procedure. Slightly different techniques had been used to train the ‘recruits’, as Phasma called them. The JB group’s training, for example, had been rather subtler than the TR’s, a slow mental _grind,_ rather than the frenzied, drug-fueled marathon of the latter.

It was the FN group’s turn today. 

So far there was no distinguishable difference – to Rey’s eyes anyway. Before this awful week had begun, Phasma had subjected her and Hux to a speech about the capabilities of each group – strengths, weaknesses, the benefits to each technique, from her point of view.

 _Poor Hux,_ she thought. He had more at stake here. The dolls were good for distractions, little blocks on a dejarik board when she strode into battle. She usually had them flank her on her right, keeping a unit between her and whatever she was killing today. Her target wouldn’t spot her until it was too late, only seeing the sea of meat and armor. But they kept Hux and his ilk alive. The temporarily useful Hux. 

She’d fucked him once, and wiped his memory immediately. The Supreme Leader had not been pleased, but he’d sent her to Tatooine to clean out the slowly festering dissent in Mos Epsa while the General recovered in the med bay. 

_Because that’s what happens when I’m bored._

Rey jerked fully awake as Captain Phasma looked in her direction. The woman could convey an awful lot of emotion for someone with that mask. _The same mask as them._ She sighed. Time to work.

She scanned FN-2186 roughly, scraping the insides of the carapace. The noise inside quivered, shrunk a bit. She pressed harder, smirking slightly as she skinned the little soul. She saw right through it, gray and vague in a polished echo chamber.

Rey tapped FN-2186’s line on the - _Oh FORCE three hundred thirty left_ \- list on her datapad. 

_Conditioning confirmed._

FN-2186 departed with a sharp salute to Phasma and a low bow to her. The door hissed open the second it was out of sight. 

“FN-2187,” said Phasma. Rey frowned. Was that… _Pride_ in her voice? She ignored Phasma’s monotone listing of FN-2187’s accomplishments – they were in her datapad anyway, and – 

Rey’s breath caught in her throat. She got to her feet, locking eyes with the trooper. Those were eyes. _It – he – he has_ eyes…  
Something was looking back.

Phasma’s voice trailed off, her confusion registering vaguely, a moth fluttering against Rey’s cheek. 

She circled FN-2187, her eyes drinking in every inch. It was the same shell as the others – clean and white, polished to an impeccable shine from head to toe. It reflected the sparse lighting of the room back at her, catching, even, the glimmer of Phasma’s armor. She _reached._

Only years of training kept her surprise from her face. She’d never seen so many colors. 

The flayed gray of the others was there, yes, hooked into his - _yes…his_ \- spirit, stretching it until it bled. It was scarred, but from years and years of tear, heal, tear, heal, _rip…_ And through her perusal, the man stood strong. He was at perfect attention even as she prodded his soul.

“Take off your helmet," she said. Captain Phasma nodded, with a flare of surprise - _Worry._ FN-2187 removed it with steady hands.

Rey’s heart sped up. She stepped closer, their faces almost touching. Dark eyes stared through her, his breath even, regular, as if each was calibrated to use just what he needed, nothing more. His mind was locked inside his training. 

_This is a test._

Rey smiled. _Quite._ Phasma’s eyes bore into her back, her hard, angular soul spiking with alarm. Rey called on her training and kept her hands to herself.  
She leaned closer, close enough that her breath tingled in his ear.

Then she turned and went back to her seat.

“He’s clean,” she said, without looking at Phasma. “Send in the next one.”

Perhaps the week wouldn’t be a total waste. 

####

FN-2187 marched back to the FN barracks, perhaps a little faster than was proper. A strange heat burned low and insistent in his gut.  
He had heard her heart beat. 

FN-2187 had exceptional peripheral vision. That was the point of the thousand-yard-stare that he the FNs had been trained to use long before they earned their armor.

_Be aware of your surroundings. Know your limits. Use all of your senses._

Captain Phasma had made a point of emphasizing their armor and weapons’ weaknesses as well as their advantages. Vision was definitely one of the former. There were times, though, when FN-2187 appreciated such limits. The blacked-out eyeholes meant that no one could see him watching, or see his face.  
Except Phasma. She always seemed to know when he was having problems.

And now, her.

FN-2187 found himself unable to get the _her_ out of his mind. With the Captain and his fellow troopers, such things barely registered. Everyone was the same in their armor, and they only took their it off to sleep. Sometimes not even then. The only skin he knew was his own.  
And even though his second skin was between him and her, he could have sworn he’d felt heat. And then she took his skin away.

_He’s clean._

Had he failed?

####

Rey was quick to emphasize that she’d found no fault with FN-2187, also known as Phasma’s star pupil. Apparently he was on ‘sanitation’ duty because he was the only FN who hadn’t done it yet, his skill and conduct rankings so high that he had never warranted what was obviously punishment duty. 

Oddly, Phasma had doubts. Oh, she his them well, but there was nothing about the Captain’s mind that Rey did not know (including her hopeless infatuation with Hux, but she had _plans_ for that the next time she got bored). Still, her relief that no fault had been found with the man was so obvious that even General Oblivious noticed. 

Rey smiled to herself. The man had broken so _beautifully._ That delicate, almost translucent skin patterned with purple bruises, weeping scratches. Her design hadn’t _quite_ matched his hair, until she painted those copper strands with come, and just a touch of…

She might have to revisit that, Snoke be damned.

But FN-2187 was an entirely different creature. Hux had been satisfying because of that raging arrogance, barely covering the rot of self-doubt. All she’d had to do was peel his anger off to taste that slick decay, to take it inside herself just as her body swallowed his cock. She had a feeling that she’d uncover something else entirely inside FN-2187. 

But what, she had no idea. 

####

Phasma started to worry when FN-2187 was pulled off of sanitation and reassigned to a 12-hour guard rotation on the bridge. Something old and half-forgotten had twisted in her gut when Snoke’s usually impassive apprentice had scanned the trooper like an especially choice side of meat. She convinced herself that Rey was just trying to keep her on her toes, that she was bored and wanted to watch the General and the Captain squirm. After all, she’d signed off on his evaluation. No problems there.

It was just that Lady Rey was always on the bridge when FN-2187 was on duty. He was always positioned close to her, either on the observation deck as an ‘honor guard’ for the General (and thus got a front row seat to the escalating pissing contest between Hux and Rey), or by the data terminals while the Darksider perused the readouts. 

She was always in his space, breathing the same air. She could tell him apart from the rest.

 _She_ bothered _to tell him apart from the rest._ Phasma knew Rey’s opinion of her troops all too well. 

Phasma got _really_ worried when Rey caught his eye and _smiled._  
It was the same smile she’d given her General the night before he’d appeared in the med bay, staring at nothing, drool staining his hospital gown. 

So Phasma moved the numbers. She sent two dropships of TRs to Starkiller, for ‘extra security,’ so that the FNs were pulled to fill their spot on the lower levels of the _Finalizer._ She’d have preferred to get FN-2187 off the ship entirely, but the FNs specialized in shipboard and dirtside combat. She couldn’t assign them to Starkiller without drawing attention. 

FN-2187 was in the second group she reassigned – if he was first, Rey would suspect. She probably would anyway, Force be damned, but Phasma had _some_ sense of self-preservation. In the meantime, she tried to think of something, _anything,_ to keep the Darksider amused. 

_Days like this, I miss Ren._

###

Rey laughed when she saw the transfer orders. The Captain probably thought she was being subtle. She countered by placing Phasma on bridge duty for 24 hours straight (a weeklong on-off rotation, she’d be ready to drop by day 3), and took FN-2187 off the watch bill for a week. 

###

Phasma kept Hux in her line of sight. She was already constructing a set of new regulations, of _consequences_ for damage to First Order assets. Training kept her steady when the General waved her forward to the observation platform.

“I require your opinion, Captain Phasma.” He kept his eyes on the training maneuvers.

“Anything, sir.”

His spine straightened, almost imperceptively. 

“Amusements, Captain. For the Lady. I believe that the training salle has run out of combat droids.” A muscle twitched in his cheek.

“Sir…Perhaps Lord Ren could be recalled. In my opinion, sir, she would appreciate a…sparring partner.” Hux’s brow furrowed. 

“I will take that under advisement. Thank you, Captain.” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand and blank eyes.

_Does he remember?_

She hoped not.

####

Rey summoned him on his second day off duty. She’d sent all the FNs extra rations, because why draw attention? Unlike _some_ Knights, she kept her fun to herself.

His surprise and confusion hummed in the Force as the door to her quarters hissed open as soon as he arrived. She waved him in, smiling. 

“Don’t be afraid,” she said quietly. She was wearing a soft cotton dress, heather gray with quarter-length sleeves and a neckline just low enough to show a faint shadow of cleavage. Her hair was up in her customary three buns, but tendrils coiled loose and shining, soft around her pale face. She beckoned him forward and sat down slowly on the couch, her hand out, palm open, as one would assure a skittish nerf. 

“My name is Rey,” she said. Stepping into the Force, she hovered just outside the thin shell of his self. It was open and clear to her, spun glass refracting the light inside. It flickered as her words registered. He was unsure, confused.

 _Should I be frightened?_

_He questions…_ Rey thought, almost surprised. A doll wouldn’t care. It would be hers to play with. 

“Please…Sit,” she said, gesturing at the chair next to her, separated by perhaps a yard of air. 

FN-2187 blinked, surprised behind his armor. But he sat, for once his movements stiff, unsure. He hadn’t been trained for this.  
She looked again. The word ‘please’ was apparently the most confusing. 

They talked. Or, rather, she talked and he answered. She watched his mind curiously, how the light of his presence dipped and shone for some words, and sputtered alarmingly at others. It never went out, though at times the smoke almost choked it. 

She dismissed him after a half hour or so.

#

The next night she asked him to remove his helmet. She used ‘please’ again – a genuine request. She’d brought ice water (he’d never tasted it, no matter how parched his throat), and two glasses. He was so surprised that he almost dropped his glass, his large hands clumsy in his gauntlets. She caught it and laughed gently, in such a way that he knew that she was laughing _with_ him. She patted his armored hand.

A bright tendril of his presence stretched toward her. She drank in the shudder of pain, of loneliness when he touched the wall. 

#

The next time he took off his helmet without being asked, and looked her in the eyes for the first time. She filled his thoughts. Off duty, there was nothing to fill the empty days. No shield of duty, no numbing tasks, and there was only so much time one could spend training one’s body.

He thought, specifically, of the sound of her skin on his armor, the barely-there pressure of her touch. Of her small, soft hands, dwarfed in his. 

Now she had a face, and that was far worse. 

She wore only a fine, silk robe of a cream color that highlighted her flushed cheeks. It was slightly open in the front, just enough for a long line of lightly tanned skin to show. The thin material rubbed deliciously on her already hard nipples. She lay back into the cushions, feeling his eyes on her, the rising heat inside of him. 

She beckoned him next to her on the couch. His cheeks flushed, his heart speeding up, his light flickering wildly, more confused than ever. He barely understood what was happening to his body. 

Well, he _knew._ Human physiology was part of every trooper’s education – the better to tear one’s enemies apart. She doubted he had ever experienced it for himself. She reached with her presence, scoring a line across the glass of his rudimentary shields. 

His light shot out to meet her. Another crack.

“You look warm, FN-2187,” she said, eyes flicking to the sweat beading on his forehead. “Would you like to remove your gloves?”

He did, gasping as cool air met skin. She took his hand in her’s and brought it to her lips. 

His blood beat under his skin as soft lips met calloused knuckles. She kissed it chivalrously and entwined her fingers with his. His eyes darkened as skin slid on skin.

_I could hold both wrists in one hand -_

A thread of light sliced through the crack. She kissed his hand again, this time on the palm. He moaned.

“Thank you,” she said, quietly. She put his hand down. “I will see you tomorrow?” She watched him through her lashes. Her robe slid further open.

“Yes,” he said. 

# 

FN-2187 slept with his armor on. 

#

He was half-hard before he stepped into her quarters. Then he saw her. She reclined on the couch, hair loose, cheek and lips flushed. Her robe was lighter than before and slit up the side, transparent enough to display flushed, pebbled nipples and a touch of shadow between her thighs from across the room. 

He removed his helmet and gloves. Rey lay further back, the material shifting. He sat next to her and drowned in her eyes, mind hazing over, cock positively crushed in his codpiece. Rey licked her lips.

“Do you like me, FN?” she asked. _A good pet name. Eff. Enn._ He shuddered. Rey’s smile widened as his spirit thrashed in the confines of his conditioning. 

_Touches, skin…A smile and laughter._ He hadn’t felt it in so long. She twined his fingers in hers, brought them to her lips. He whimpered as her tongue flicked out, teasing the sensitive pads of his fingers. Their eyes locked as she drew his hand downward, pressed his palm to her breast. Instinct took him. He squeezed, pushed the material aside. Rough fingers grazed her nipple. She shifted closer, almost in his arms, and moaned into his shoulder. He came, sobbing, come flooding his armor, drowning his cock in heat.

She made soothing, quiet noises in his ear as she stripped him. He lay flat on the couch, boneless and shocked. A sense of vague alarm took him as she piled his armor haphazardly on the floor. She shushed him with a hand under his body suit, which quickly joined the pile. 

She dragged him into her bedroom with the Force and kneeled between his legs, balancing on her heels, drinking in the sight before her.  
Beautiful brown skin stretched taut over a rock-hard chest and arms, built from hours and hours of learning to kill. She dropped her gaze from the sharp line of his collarbone, flawless lattice of abs, slick and sharp with sweat, to the thick, flushed cock, still wet from his first-ever orgasm, hard again and straining desperately against his stomach. 

She braced her hands on his shoulders, shuddering as his blood thrummed under her skin. His eyes were blown out, wide as he came back to himself, staring at her with shock. She smirked and leaned back, shrugging out of her robe, stretching her arms above her head, displaying herself. His chest shook with a desperate cry as he struggled against her Force grip, his mind wild with the need to _touch._

She took pity and lowered herself so that her body was flush against his, chest to chest, hips to hips, legs and arms lining up with his. She shifted, humming as she nuzzled his ear, tasted the sweat beading on his smooth cheek. His heart thudded – he was close. She gripped the base of his cock with the Force, smiling into his skin at his sigh of mingled pain and relief. 

“Do you want me, FN?” she whispered. The trooper gave a strangled moan. His light and longing thrashed wildly. And for the first time, she saw anger. Anger at the wall, anger at those who had taken the touch from him. Anger and tears.

He nodded, unable to speak, heart and lungs seizing. 

She braced herself on his chest, keeping as much of their skin together as she could. FN gasped as the wet heat of her folds stroked the head of his cock, and then drew just the tip inside. He shouted, hips spasming in her grip. Rey arched her back, moaning. _Force._ The stretch burned. _Yes…_

_”Please…”_

FN-2187’s first request. Her teeth drew blood as her cunt swallowed him, taking his cock an inch at a time, her mind whiting out at the hot, slick, stretch. The wall in his mind shattered when her hips met his. The flicker, the whisper, became a hot roar, rage and flame. She sucked it in greedily, pulling off almost completely and then slamming down, hissing at the sweet, delicious burn. _So deep…_

She wrapped her mind around his, savoring the flame. He was strong.

Perhaps she’d keep this one.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Headcanon: Finn is Force-sensitive, just not as strong as Rey. Or, at least, he'll need training to bring it out.
> 
> 2\. Apparently I just _can't_ write darkfic in this fandom without breaking Hux in some way. *shrug*
> 
> 3\. [Evil Cannot Comprehend Good.](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/EvilCannotComprehendGood)  
> Snoke _really_ did a number on her...But now she has Finn, my badass with the conscience that the FO couldn't snuff out.  <3


End file.
